


6 Years

by klaviergavout



Category: Tuck Everlasting - Miller/Tysen/Shear & Federle
Genre: ESPECIALLY HUGO like why doesnt he have more fics, F/M, Fluff, i know everyone loves jesse but cmon guys give my boy hugo some love, sorta confession but also not, sorta slow burn too, this is just a very self indulgent fic and i would die for these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:23:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klaviergavout/pseuds/klaviergavout
Summary: She laughed then, a sweet and innocent laugh, and Hugo was reminded of carnivals and springs and Fosters and Tucks, reminded of 6 years passed in an instant.





	6 Years

**Author's Note:**

> Happy August 1st, everyone! It's Tuck Everlasting day, and what better way to celebrate than with some good ol' fluffy fanfic? Yes, please.

“Hugo! Hugo, get up already, will ya? Food’s ready.”  
  
Hugo Jackson stirred in his bed, stretching his arms out with a yawn. It was a Sunday morning, he knew, since his father was still home and not on his regular morning patrol of the town. Instead, he’d be in the dining room, clad in his Sunday best, waiting for his son so that the two of them could have breakfast and leave for church. _A good deputy must always be punctual,_ said his trusty handbook, and so even though he’d have given anything to sleep in for a few minutes more, he swung himself out of the comfort of his bed and made way towards his dresser.   
  
He took a glance at the calendar on his wall and smiled; exactly six years ago, he’d had his first case. It was strange, he knew, but nothing had seemed to change since then. Not Treegap, not his father, and certainly not him; he thought he’d remained just as dopey as he’d always been. His handbook was still always at his side to refer back to at a moment’s notice, and although he was now allowed to assist with more cases (as minor as some of them actually turned out), he still felt like a kid, eternally stuck in the past.   
  
The suit he wore to church had been his father’s, once upon a time. It was as grey and wise as his old man was, and Hugo knew deep down it’d never suit him.   
  
“Hugo! Come on, boy, hurry up!”   
  
“Coming, si-- I mean, Dad!” His reminiscing had gotten him nowhere except late for breakfast. Throwing on his satchel and making sure not to forget his handbook, he raced down the stairs with clumsy steps, spotting his father at the front door alongside--   
  
“Hi, Hugo,” laughed a gentle voice, and he smiled wide.   
  
“Hi, Winnie.” Six years had passed and she hadn’t changed either, except now she was older, less naive, and even more beautiful than she’d ever been.   
  
“Miss Foster here was wondering if ya’d like to go on a little walk with her before church,” said his father with a knowing look, “but it seems she’s the only one here who’s had something to _eat_ this morning.”   
  
“I don’t mind! I’ll go,” replied Hugo without a moment’s thought, not even bothering to look back at him in response, too busy smiling.   
  
“Well, if you say so, but--”

The constable couldn’t even finish his sentence before Winnie had grabbed Hugo’s hand with a grin and dragged him outside.  


* * *

“Where are we going?”  
  
“You’ll see.”  
  
Their ‘little walk’ had quickly turned into an expedition. She’d taken him far away from the confines of the town and deep into Treegap Wood, a place he’d hardly visited in the last six years; although his first case had been solved, it had ended up in the wood with a dead body that he’d tried his very best to avoid going anywhere near. Now, if he ever did had to pass through the wood, he’d ensure his trip would be over as soon as possible. Danger could be anywhere.  
  
Winnie seemed to notice his hesitation and stopped, not yet letting go of his hand. “Everything alright?”  
  
“Just a little nervous,” he replied, nervously fidgeting with the strap of his satchel. “I don’t really like the wood too much.”  
  
“You don’t?”  
  
“Well, why do _you_ like it?” Hugo was the first to break contact, crossing his arms and pouting slightly, fully ignoring how childish it must have seemed. “You were kidnapped the moment you first set foot in there.”  
  
“The Tucks were my _friends._ They didn’t take me, I went with them. _”_ _  
__  
_ A playful grin flashed across his face, a rare occurrence with him. “If they were really your friends, then why did they leave?”  
  
Winnie scoffed loudly and gave him a playful slap on the shoulder, earning her a laugh from the boy. “You think the wood’s creepy? Unlike _some_ people, Hugo, I actually know the good places to look.”   
  
“Like where?”  
  
She held out her hand once more for him to take. “Why don’t we go and find out?”

* * *

Hugo allowed himself to be led further and further through the wood, trying his best to stay calm; as much as Winnie often told him otherwise, his exceptional hearing was a curse, since all the little noises and movements from within the trees now seemed just as loud as a dying scream. When the two of them finally stopped, he took a moment to observe his surroundings: Winnie had ran on ahead, and dropped her bag next to a fresh, running spring. It made him think for a moment- _had he had a drink that morning?_ \- and although he’d forgotten if or not he had done it, he reached down and dug through his satchel for a empty flask he always carried around (for emergencies, of course).

 _“Don’t drink from that spring!_ ” yelled a shrill voice from above him, and Hugo looked quickly up to see Winnie Foster climbing the tallest tree he’d ever seen in his life.   
  
“Winnie!” He threw the flask to the ground below him and was at the foot of the tree in an instant, clutching his satchel like a lifeline. “Be careful!”   
  
“It’s okay, Hugo, I’ve done this before!” she shouted back, continuing to climb despite his worry. Every step she made was quick and precise, as if she’d practised the whole routine a thousand times before, and at last she reached a sturdy branch semi-hidden by a veil of leaves. “I’m fine, see? You should come sit up here!”

Hugo’s eyes seemed to bug out of his skull at the thought. Shaking his head and holding his hands up, he backed away from the tree. “Oh no, oh no, I am _not_ going up there.”

“Why not?” Winnie smiled at him, just as usual, just as if she couldn't feel the rush of terror that had just coursed through his veins. “Treegap looks amazing up here. C’mon, Hugo, it’s not that bad!”  
  
“Winnie, I _can’t_ \-- I’d fall and--” Hugo took one more look at the tree and trembled, closing his eyes shut tight. He knew climbing a tree like that was an impossible feat with his clumsiness alone, much less with his fear of heights, and even attempting to climb up there would most likely end in disaster.  
  
A sudden, sickening crunch nearby made him jump, but the rush of fear soon dissipated when he opened his eyes to see Winnie beside him, shuffling her feet amongst the leaves. “Sorry, Hugo. I really should’ve asked before going up there and worrying you.”  
  
“It’s okay,” he said, offering up a small smile, mentally kicking himself for _'n_ _ot being able to climb a stupid tree'._  “We could go sit somewhere else?”

Almost as soon as he’d said that, Winnie’s eyes lit up.  
  
“And I know _just_ the place.”

* * *

Winnie led him along an old, twisting path, radiant with happiness. Hugo tried not to focus too much on his friend; when she was happy like this her face shone brighter than the sun, and he was sure he was going to melt if he dared look again. Instead, he took out his deputy handbook and mumbled passages to himself over and over, much too busy trying to distract himself to notice that Winnie sometimes looked back over at _him.  
_  
She stopped Hugo in his tracks after a few minutes, resting one hand on his shoulder and pointing with the other at an old, abandoned silo. “Look, there it is! The best viewpoint in the whole of Treegap.”   
  
“The _best?”_  
  
Noticing the clear look of worry on Hugo’s face,  Winnie quickly added, “From both above and below! Which is why it’s the best. We can stay down here, it looks just as good.”  
  
Hugo shook his head, though his knuckles were white as a sheet; there was a ladder on its side, but it was still old and rickety and very tall, taller than the tree he’d refused to climb before. Hugo didn’t much like being near the silo at all, but he didn’t want to disappoint Winnie even more than he already had. He had to climb it. He couldn’t risk disappointing her again.  
  
At least there was a ladder this time.

“No, let’s-- let’s go up.”   
  
“Are you sure? We don’t have t--”  
  
“I’m sure.” While saying this, Hugo had grabbed onto a rung of the ladder, and was now holding onto it for dear life. He knew that if his father were there, he’d be berated for interrupting again, but he had so much more on his mind than words. _“I’m sure,_ ” he repeated, quieter this time- his throat felt as if it was closing in on him, cutting off his air.

“Alright, but I’ll be just down here, okay?”

Taking a shaky breath, Hugo lifted one foot off the ground, hesitating for a moment before placing it down on the ladder. _One done. One done._ Words to distract him. He repeated them like a mantra in his head, trying to focus on the rhyme and not the floor below, trying to focus on moving his feet upwards and not the invisible force that seemed to keep him stuck there.

He had a vice grip on the sides as he began to shuffle up slowly, chest heaving for anxious breath. The invisible force was stronger now, and he tried with all he could to push back against it, attempting to ignore the trickle of salty sweat he felt run down his spine.

The only thing keeping him going up, he knew, was Winnie. If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have dared set one foot on the ladder- he would have raced back down and all way home. If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have stayed in the woods this long in the first place, since they were dangerous and creepy and full of strange noises. If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be thinking of her _right now_ , he wouldn’t--

The view was incredible, and for a moment, Hugo completely forgot he’d reached the top.

Sunlight streamed gently down, down from the clear sky and onto the ground below- and below stood Treegap, just as he’d known it to be all his life. The church, white and pristine, its spire almost reaching the tops of the trees in height; Winnie’s house, no longer foreboding, her nana’s familiar rocker still sat on the porch; the wood, lush and barely golden, somehow finally beautiful.

Winnie was up like a shot the moment his feet left the ladder, and mere seconds after he’d positioned himself comfortably on top of the silo, she rushed out on top with that radiant grin once again on her face.   
  
“Hugo, Hugo, you did it, you made it up!”   
  
Even though he tensed up instinctively at the thought of what he’d just done (and how he was going to manage getting down), at last a dazed grin broke out on Hugo’s face. “Mhm.”

* * *

After a long string of congratulations from Winnie, there was silence between them both for a while, and Hugo wasted that time by looking out at the view again. Far beyond Treegap and its wood lay a low mountain range, deep brown and jutting out above the skyline, looking more like cliffs than mountains in the burning August heat. Far _behind_ him, he knew, stretched a vast ocean; what lay beyond there, well, he couldn’t possibly imagine. Of course he’d learned about other countries, studied them with keen interest, all their names and flags and landmarks, but the only place he’d ever _truly_ known was Treegap- the rest of the world was one case he’d probably never get to solve, and he was content with that.  
  
“You know, Hugo,” said Winnie, finally breaking the silence, “me and Jesse sat here six years ago today.”   
  
“Jesse?” Hugo turned his head to look over his shoulder at her, and was surprised to see that her happiness had completely vanished. She seemed subdued, her eyes downcast and hands clasped awkwardly together. “One of the Tucks?”

“Right,” she replied. “The blonde one? With the hat?”  
  
“Ah.”   
  
“He didn’t mean to, but Jesse taught me something that night. Jesse taught me that it’s important to go after the things you want, to do the things you want to do, because life won’t last forever. He taught me that there’s no use waiting for things to come along, when life is moving on every second. And I thought about that a lot,” said Winnie quietly, “today.”

Hugo stared at her blankly. “I don’t-- I don’t know what you mean.”

She laughed then, a sweet and innocent laugh, and Hugo was reminded of carnivals and springs and Fosters and Tucks, reminded of 6 years passed in an instant. “Oh, Hugo, you really haven’t changed, have you?” And when she leaned over and kissed him, quick and soft and wonderful, he felt like he could feel the very future on his lips.


End file.
